Happy birthday, Gram - Omega Lee Davis

Today is my grandmother's birthday. I don't know how old she would have been today. Remembering her belly laugh, her homemade ice cream and apple jelly. Her pressing my hair and too many ponytails she put in my head. Remembering her Jheri Curl and wigs. Too light stockings and fire stick candy. Her wisdom and giggle. Her sass and pride. The station wagon we rode to church in. Her putting lipstick on when we got to church. Red. Late for Sunday school. Always. The way she cursed out slow drivers in front of her with homemade curse words. The time she walked me to school when I was a very little girl and walked around the campus to find the girl who pushed me. Her carrot cake and tuna sandwiches. Trips to Santa Monica to visit family. Going with her to business meeting and bible study. Women's mission on Monday nights and choir rehearsal on Tuesdays. Being in her wedding when she married my grandfather again after fifty years. Being with her when Bubba died. Being with her through Granddaddy's Alzheimer's. When Rev. Ford died and Sis. Lang. Listening to her stories about Mary, her first child who died after three days. All the funerals Roshann and I went to with her. Being at the church with her during the week as she made the programs for Sunday. Watching the O.J. trial with her. Watching Edge of Night, All My Children, One Life to Live with her. Listening to her and Grandaddy sing around the house. Seeing her in her white dress on first Sundays. Remembering she had a stroke the day I found out I was pregnant. The same day Biggie died. Seeing her in her coffin. Kissing her body good bye. Remembering she showed up in my dream to tell me I wasn't laughing enough. Thinking.